


Helping Hand

by MandyPrintz



Category: CrankGameplays - Fandom, Unus Annus - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, i do not use y/n, minor mentions of past emotional abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27589328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MandyPrintz/pseuds/MandyPrintz
Summary: You're a blossoming Twitch streamer trying to make ends meet when an old friend raids your stream. While struggling to accept his generosity, Ethan reminds you just how much you're worth.
Relationships: Ethan Nestor/Original Character(s), Ethan Nestor/You
Comments: 6
Kudos: 123





	Helping Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This specific fic is a little too self indulgent, and therefore deals with some minor money-related anxieties and has some not so kind language used toward the reader (in flashback form). Wanted to put that warning on here! 
> 
> This was also my "guinea pig" to see if I was comfy writing for youtubers again, as I used to write for Rooster Teeth before, well, you know... SO if anyone is interested in seeing more Unus Annus or other YT Creators from me, let me know what you'd like to see! Okay sorry, I'll shut up now.

An inhuman screech erupts from your throat as the hidden tarantula makes itself known and chases your villager down. Of course, the one time you go island hopping looking only for villagers and rare fish. 

"Ahh,  _ IDon'tHaveANetIDon'tHaveANetIDon'tHaveANet- _ " you rush through bared teeth, moving your Animal Crossing character around the screen as quick as possible. "Save me, Melba, don't just stand there!!" 

Giggling to yourself, you take a peek toward your Twitch chat (in all its 78 viewer glory) and stop, letting the spider get you. 

_ >Catch it! Its worth 8k!!  _

_ >Net him!! Net him!!  _

_ >dont just run, make bank dude _

Adjusting the headphones on your ears, you sigh. "Listen guys, I appreciate the tips but I don't have a net right now!" You open your inventory, flipping wildly between the fishing rod and stacks of fish bait. "See!! I'm a fool!" 

You bullshit with the chat for a little longer while gathering the supplies and making a net to appease them (and to save your ass if another tarantula were to appear). Sure, it isn't much of a viewership, but after toying around with streaming for about a year and fully committing to it just over two months ago, you're rather proud of your little community. A few usernames you recognize, regular views and a few subscribers, but some of the names today are all new to you. Personally, you don't mind your smaller numbers, because it allows you to chat with them all more personally, although anyone who creates content online would agree that it might be nice to have just a little more stability. 

What you wouldn't give to be able to call this a full time job. To make ends meet without waiting tables and making lattes for LA's finest at less than minimum wage. 

After fishing with little luck and using up all your fish bait, you decide to head back to your home island of Moonstone, and take the transition time to catch up with chat. 

"So what's up guys? Everyone staying safe, washing your hands, wearing a mask, all that?" You ask nobody in particular.

A few replies make you smile, but one long one jumps out. 

_ >Safe as possible! I got indirectly exposed and have to quarantine for 2 weeks, so THANK YOU for keeping me entertained!!  _

"Aw," you pout at the camera after reading it aloud, "no, thank YOU for keeping me company! You know I--" 

You're cut off by your phone springing to life on the desk beside you. Usually you leave your phone in another room while streaming but you must have forgotten today. A quick glance at the screen reveals the dopey, smiling face of your high school best friend, " _ Eep'n _ " boldly displayed across the top. 

"Ohh, you guys," you smile, flashing your phone to the camera, "it's the world famous CrankGameplays, you think I should answer it, or make him squirm a little??"

_ >EEF!  _

_ >Yo!! Answer it!!! _

_ >knock him down a peg, ***** button him _

_ >You know Ethan?! _

_ >keep the boy hangin _

_ >Yes! _

_ >YESSS  _

You giggle, answering and quickly putting the call on speaker. 

"Hey, Eep! You're on stream, say hi!" 

A childlike gasp comes from your speaker, bringing a smile to your face. "I'm on a Twitch stream!! Wowee! Does that mean I'm gonna be FAMOUS?" 

If he were here right now, you'd shove him out of his seat. 

"Yep! Adored by millions, or at least, uh," you squint at the viewer count, "74 people. What’s up, dude? 

"You playing Animal Crossing?"

"Sure am," you punctuate the statement with a gasp of your own when you pull a sturgeon from the river and make excited eye contact with your camera. 

"Sick! Open your gates, I have a present for you." He says quickly, and before you can question him, he rushes out a, "thatsallokaybye!", drawing out the 'e' sound until he hangs up. 

After a brief pause, you chuckle out your confusion and run your villager to the airport to open the gates to friends.

In your silence, the chat is moving faster than it had all day, the buzz in the room clearly not about you anymore. Some people still exclaim his name, not adding much else, some comment on how adorable he is. Cult like messages of "Unus Annus" and "Memento Mori" pop up here and there, making you chuckle. Most of all though, the same question pops up. 

_ >How do you know Ethan?  _

_ >Never expected that. You're friends with Eef?  _

_ >I'm sorry WHAT JUST HAPPENED  _

"Oh that doofus?" You ask with a roll of your eyes, casting another line into the river. "I've known him since he was a wee thing. We had gymnastics classes together in elementary and then attended the same high school." The DAL arrival screen takes over right as the fish you’re after nibbles and you sigh, dropping your joy-cons on the desk. "And he still has the WORST timing, I almost had that sucker." 

The next twenty minutes finds you giving Ethan a tour of your island, relaying clipped messages to him through the game's awful chat system and laughing at his jumbled responses. 

"If only he stayed on the phone, this would have been a thousand times easier," you mumble, unsure if you're talking to the chat or yourself. They've died down for the most part now, calmed down to the pace you're used to. 

Just before he leaves, the hotdog king drops a piece of furniture at your feet, sneezes on you, and runs away. 

"What a  _ weirdo _ !" You exclaim, picking up the item and entering your inventory to find it was simply labeled as "Raccoon Figurine." Placing it in front of your town hall, the downright terrifying item gives you a startle and just in time, your phone chimes informing you that Ethan texted. 

_ Eep'n, 7:46 PM: You have been cursed, ENJOY! t-minus 10 minutes until the curse takes effect _

"Well….that's haunting." You state blankly, before laughing it off and returning to the previous task at hand, apologizing aloud for the interruption. 

As promised, ten minutes later everything changes. One moment you're joking with one of your subscribers in chat about how you get to talk to her more than you get to talk to your family back home, the next, the chat explodes. Messages come in faster than you can read and you have to pause the chat and scroll back up to the top to find out what happened, and there it is. 

_ CrankGameplays has raided your channel with a party of 9,328.  _

"Holy shit," you mutter, stunned as your subscriber alert pings far more times than you think you deserve, the gifted sub alert even more, all this commotion before you've even said a single word to any of them. You finally manage to breathe out a teary, " _ hi _ ." 

You take a moment to catch your breath, a sip of water off screen, before returning to introduce yourself to all the new viewers. You give your name, your username, and make fun of your shaky hands before continuing, attempting to still fish in-game while you talk so that people have something to pay attention to other than your blabbering. 

"So uh, yeah, I don't have a set schedule, but I like to stream two or three times a week, it just kind of depends. It’s a lot of Animal Crossing and Among Us right now, a lot of chill vibes like we've got tonight, but every once in a while I'll stream some horror too. You know, Phasmophobia, Dark Souls, DBD, stuff like that. It's kind of a grab bag around here but if you like what you see, follows are completely free so come hang out, I promise I'll try not to disappoint." You pause, allowing yourself another moment to laugh uneasily. "And Ethan!! God, you beautiful little stinky man, you. I can't believe you did this. I-I mean  _ thank you  _ but also  _ fuck you _ . And seriously, God, everyone who's automatically subbing or gifting subs, I can not even begin to thank you enough. I...I'm shell shocked. Seriously you do  _ not _ have to spend your money on me, especially without getting a taste of what I offer, but  _ thank you _ . Please be kind and patient in chat, check out the rules and don't be disrespectful. I uh, I only have one mod." 

Your sub count continues to rise at an overwhelming rate, bringing tears to your eyes and a twist to your stomach. The cherry on top hits you when three separate messages come through, so quickly that you think it's a fluke, but a quick scroll confirms it. Three separate messages...and one boy you're gonna punch the next time you see him. 

_ CrankGameplays gifted 50 subs!  _

_ CrankGameplays gifted 50 subs! _

_ CrankGameplays gifted 50 subs!  _

Yeah. You were going to kill him.

\-------

Later in the evening, with tear tracked cheeks and a giddy smile, you bid adieu to a chat full of 2,000 new friends. It was a shock to you that anyone from Ethan's raid stuck around for another 2 hours, let alone  _ two thousand _ . Your subscriber count literally quadrupled from what it was before, with even more people following.

As for how you're feeling after such a crazy stream?

Ecstatic is an understatement. 

Anxious is an understatement. 

Guilty is  _ definitely _ an understatement. 

Your relationship with money has always been complicated. Turns out not having any will do that to you. Growing up, you were raised with your father's stubborn pride, trained to not accept handouts, and after so many years of not accepting anything it was hard to distinguish charity from kindness. You wouldn't let a friend so much as pay for your coffee if you were out together, not even Ethan, your oldest friend who is now making the big YouTube bucks. It was never a matter of how much someone offered, you could never seem to accept any gifts. Call it your vice. 

Still, you wanted to thank Ethan. 

You know him, you know he has a genuine heart. He was the kid in high school who noticed the little guy, who always included the quiet one in the group with engaging smiles and encouraging nods even when everyone else in the room was talking over them. He was the kid in gymnastics, overly excited to cheer everyone else on, but the first to rush to your side the second you flopped to a mat with a less than graceful landing, checking for scraped knees and bumped noggins. Ethan is the kind of friend who genuinely enjoys helping, and deep down you know that. 

So you call him. 

He picks up on the second ring with a shout of your name and a warm, "how's my favorite streamer doin’? You enjoy my raccoon curse?" 

You can't help but scoff, but silence follows when you can't find the words. 

Once again, he says your name, much gentler this time. You can hear the hesitation, "...are you with me?"

Words from your past swirl in your head, the space between your ears filled with nothing but venom and hurt. 

_ Don't you let that neighbor feed you dinner anymore. She don't need you costing her any more money. _

_ Another damn pair of shoes? I can't afford for you to keep growing like this.  _

_ That's too expensive.  _

You're _ too expensive. _

" _ Ethan, _ " you falter, chewing on your bottom lip and shaking your head, though you know he can't see it. You try to even your tone, to not let on how affected you were, but your voice is still tight. "That was  _ too much _ ." Damn it. Here you are, supposed to be thanking your friend for his generosity, and you're downright chastising him for it. 

This time he pulls out the big guns, putting on a classic Ethan Nestor goofy voice and cooing a nickname he hasn't uttered in years, "Bee...are you okay?" 

You choke out a laugh, rolling your eyes at the name. "Yeah, I…" you pause for far too long for him to believe you. "You know how I am with money." 

"Don't go anywhere," he warns. "I'm comin' to you." 

He hangs up before you can protest, a bad habit of his, and you know there's no point in trying to argue, not when he's already made up his mind.

So you tuck your feet under yourself and open Twitter, scrolling aimlessly and deliberately ignoring the growing number of notifications at the bottom of your screen until he gets there. 

He doesn't bother knocking, but you're notified of his arrival by the jingling of his keys as he searches for the spare to your apartment and the lilting cadence of baby talk. Though you can't understand it through the door, you know he must have brought Spencer. 

"Heeey!" He calls out, keys clattering against the surface of the table in the doorway. The baby voice returns. "Did somebody here order an Eef with a side of the best boi in the whole world?"

"Hey, Bug." You call out, using his matching nickname in return and raising your hand so he can see where you're lounged on the couch. Sitting up, you wrinkle your nose at him. "Technically no, I did not place that order, but if it's on the house, I'll take it." 

He giggles, a light, genuine sound, and lets Spencer off his leash. Immediately, the dog bolts for the couch, jumping onto your lap and licking at your cheeks excitedly. He accepts your pats with a wag of his tail before settling down and jumping to the floor to curl up on your feet. He always knew just how to comfort you, just like his dad. 

Likewise, Ethan flops onto the couch, wiggling until his head rests on your lap and he stares up at you with a soft smile. "Then you're in luck, I just happen to know the owners." He pauses for a minute before breaking out into another bout of soft laughter, "what even is this bit?" 

"I don't know!" You protest, ruffling his hair, "you started it!" 

You both huff a sigh, yours deeper than his, and he hums, "yeah." A comfortable silence falls on the room, both of you almost forgetting why he was even here in the first place. You card your fingers gently through his hair, his feet tap out an unknown rhythm on the armrest of your couch. Even his presence comforts you. You're about to reach for the TV remote when he speaks up again. 

"Bee, why don't you want me to help you?" He sits up, turning to face you and crosses his legs on the couch, knee bouncing as it always seems to. 

"It's not that‐" 

He cuts you off, eyebrows knit together. "No, listen." His voice is stern, his tone uncharacteristically serious. "You work so hard on your streams. You put so much of yourself into your work and you deserve to be seen. It's the least I can do to bring some attention your way." 

Suddenly your lap is the most interesting thing in the room, drawing your gaze downward as you twist your fingers together uncomfortably. Your voice is small when you reply, barely a whisper, "it's not the attention I'm worried about." 

"Hey, c'mere." He stretches one leg out in front of him, the other dropping to the floor with a soft  _ thump _ , and opens his arms, gesturing for you to join him. So you do, turning to lay between his legs, leaning back on his chest and laying your head on his shoulder. (Spencer only whines a little bit in protest when you withdraw your feet from under him.) Ethans arms wrap around your middle and squeeze, and he bonks his head against yours in an attempt to make you laugh. It's  _ almost _ successful. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right? Tell me what's eating you...I haven't seen you this pouty since Kevin Walters stood you up for senior prom." 

That time he gets you, a foul snigger escaping your lungs before you could stop it. "Hey! That's just cruel, don't bring him up." You allow yourself to share another genuine chuckle with him before explaining yourself further, laying your arms on top of his and hugging him back as best you can from your position. "It's just- you know how I am with money. Y’know, every time we go to the movies or get lunch and you beat me to the punch paying the bill, you know how uncomfortable it makes me. And that's just $10 here and there. So what you did tonight, while I am  _ so  _ grateful, don't get me wrong, it's way too much. The raid was amazing, and any time you promote me on your stream I am so grateful, but Ethan...you work so hard for your money, you shouldn't have spent that much." 

"Hm…" he huffs a breath out his nose, the puff tickling where it meets your shoulder. His hands start to absently stroke your sides while he thinks, and he turns to place an affectionate kiss to your temple. The two of you have always been this way: comfortably affectionate. It roused suspicion and rumors in high school, but it was never anything more than a close friendship between two people with physical touch as a love language. Or so you tried to convince yourself. "You say that I work hard for my money. What is it you think I do to earn it?" 

This gets you to stumble. "Well you…I mean. You stream for so long and so often. You have this incredible personality meant for entertaining that just pops on camera. You edited for Mark and worked your way up that YouTube food chain, and you still edit and record videos for YouTube as well as everything you put into twitch. Not to mention Unus Annus, which is its own crazy commitment...you just care so much about entertaining people. It's inspiring." 

"Okay so let's break this down. You stream multiple days a week, yes?" You nod, knowing he can't really see the grimace on your face. He's going to turn this around on you, you just know it. "For hours at a time, you engage your audience and create bonds with them, right?" Again, you nod. "And not a day has gone by in our friendship where you haven't made me laugh my ass off at something mundane. You've got spunk, kid, and a huge, kind heart meant to touch the hearts of millions. I just know it. Forget Unus Annus. That's its whole own thing, like you said, its own entity and as much as I love and care about it, it's irrelevant right now. And here's the thing about working your way up the food chain, as you call it. You gotta start somewhere. I started with a  _ fucking back flip, _ but Mark saw my potential and he gave me a chance. He used his audience to bring attention to my tiny, growing community. And thats all I'm trying to do for you, because you're  _ incredible _ , Bee, and I want the world to see you the same way I do." 

Tears spill over your eyelashes - you hadn't realized you were holding them back - and drip onto his forearms. Your stomach does flips, and you can only hope that the man behind you can't feel it. "But Ethan…$750?? You spent $750 on gifted subs for me. That's literally over half a month's rent for me. It's  _ too much. _ " You can not stop stressing that fact. 

"I don't think it is." He shrugs, and gives you a moment to respond. When you don't, he continues, the fingers of his left hand trace patterns up and down your arm and onto your shoulder as he speaks. "I mean yeah, it's a chunk of change, but I'm doin' pretty good lately, you know? And I think you're worth every penny. You're worth  _ way more _ than that." You start to object, but he keeps going, cutting you off before you can start. "Don't. I know what you’re about to say. Don't give me that.  _ Fuck _ your dad for making you think otherwise. Fuck  _ anyone _ that makes you doubt yourself, Bee." Years of experience with very similar conversations are clear in the tone of his voice. He knows exactly what's bothering you and exactly why. Another soft kiss is placed into your hair, and he squeezes you tighter as it lingers there longer than it should. "You are not a burden, financially or otherwise. It makes me happy that I get to share you with the world. Please just let me." 

Your only response is to sit up, turning in his arms to throw your own around his neck. Your face rests on your elbow, notching perfectly into the crook of his neck, and you inhale his clean, slightly spicy scent slowly, deeply. "Thank you, Eep," you whisper into his neck, not knowing what else there is to say. 

"Always," he presses back. Warm, sincere, 100% Ethan. 

Leaning back slightly, fingers locked at the back of his neck, you flash a giddy smile, hopeful eyes, desperate to change the mood. "Sleepover?" 

He chuckles, nodding to the coffee table where a backpack you're confident is stuffed with movies and junk food sits, "oh, you know I already planned on it." 


End file.
